To subdue the earth is akin to knowing it. To seek knowledge is to seek the subduction of the earth and all her secrets, our environment, in every way, in every material, and in every concept and contrivance of man—in man himself. To subdue the earth, god’s mandate (or man’s excuse for his rabid, oft’ self-detrimental curiosity), is to view everything in light of the one who’s key feature we project to be the furthest extent of man’s pursuit: the eponymously enlightened Consciousness—the view of the world “with science” as light-shining mechanism, rock cracker and look-insider, splitter of night from day and Atom from Adam —however you’d like to conceive of the ultimate indivisible unit.
This man will know himself as god one day, and when he does, he will have made himself a god, diviner of his destiny, but it will cost him himself—the alchemical breaking and making of all gods, curiosity and hubris.
God prevails —persists— in human desire, and it is that desire to become that fashions his god and fancies him all-knowing.
But how good a god would They be if without a good long tease, all was revealed. We’d have dined in hell long ago with such simple pleasures and come na’er this far into our own light. No poetry or romance, but perhaps much war—and so excitement!—however brief.